


Half-Truths

by plantyourtreeswithme



Series: My Heart Belongs to the Spokane Breeze [3]
Category: Gandrew - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Explicit Language, Fluff, Gandrew Week (Video Blogging RPF), Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Light Angst, M/M, Quarantine, gandrew - Freeform, slightly nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:26:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24005827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plantyourtreeswithme/pseuds/plantyourtreeswithme
Summary: Here are some things that I have learned,in the shadow of your embrace.
Relationships: Andrew Siwicki/Garrett Watts
Series: My Heart Belongs to the Spokane Breeze [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760536
Comments: 70
Kudos: 41
Collections: Gandrew Week 2020





	1. Underrated

**Author's Note:**

> Seven short one-shots for the [Gandrew Week challenge](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/GandrewWeek2020). The theme is them reminiscing in quarantine together - and that they love each other, in every single one.
> 
> The title and chapter summaries are taken from a poem I wrote on February 12th, 2020.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _Here are some things that I have learned,_   
>  _in the shadow of your embrace:_
>> 
>> _i._
>> 
>> _There is nothing else quite like_   
>  _walking to my home on a cool summer morning;_   
>  _treading barefoot over open grass,_   
>  _feeling the whispers of Appalachian dew at my ankles._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quiet moment in quarantine; short and sweet! Trying to evoke emotion with as few words as possible.

He steps out onto the back porch, and looks out over the yard.

The golden wind chimes, hanging from the railing of the deck, twinkle and peal as he shuffles across the worn wood, his feet bare.

Garrett is sitting on the dew-kissed lawn, gazing at the Spokane pines in the distance, twisting in the breeze. Andrew's breath catches at the slope of his shoulders, the relaxed eagerness of his posture. His heart feels incredibly full.

He walks, the grass nipping at his soles, and comes to stand at Garrett's side; puts his hand on Garrett's shoulder, leans down to kiss the top of his head.

"Forests are so underrated, Andrew," Garrett says at his boyfriend's touch, not daring to look away from the sprawling thicket of trees before them. "Look at it, it's just so beautiful."

"Favorite natural environment?" Andrew murmurs, laughing, and Garrett giggles, leaning into Andrew's side and grinning at the reference.

"Come inside," he says, after some time has passed - combing his hands through Garrett's hair and falling more and more in love with every second. "I made you breakfast."

Garrett stands and kisses him, slow and soft and absolute bliss; and then they walk back up the creaking steps to their little cottage, hand-in-hand.


	2. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _ii._
>> 
>> _You will answer when I call,_   
>  _broken,_   
>  _sobbing,_   
>  _spewing apologies, on death's brink;_
>> 
>> _even when you're angry,_   
>  _and I have wronged you --_
>> 
>> _you will love me still._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally planning on all of the chapters to be unrelated, but then I found a way to tie everything together. Hope you enjoy :)

"Do you remember when you kissed me for the first time?"

There's a long pause, and then Garrett is wriggling around, adjusting himself beneath the covers. He sighs contentedly, hums a little into Andrew's side, and says, "Yeah, of course."

"Our anniversary, you'd said."

Garrett huffs a little at Andrew's teasing. He is impossibly beautiful like this, all curled up around Andrew, sweet and supple in the darkness of their bedroom, hair askew. "Three years after the day we met. I couldn't take it any longer."

And, oh, Andrew remembers: how restless both of them had been the whole day, and the way the backs of their knuckles kept brushing as they walked outside. Desperate to hold hands under the balmy summer sun, but never daring. He remembers the way Garrett laughed over dinner, and the way he'd looked at him when they were back at Andrew's apartment - a few sips into the bottle of champagne they were sharing, but already drunk on their love for each other.

He can still recall the horror on Garrett's face after he'd kissed him, and how quickly he'd taken his leave.

"Andrew," Garrett whines - smiling, tugging at Andrew's fingers under the covers. "So embarrassing."

"It's not embarrassing, Garr," he says, voice still full of mirth despite his weariness. "It was sweet how much you cared. Adorable, really."

"Andrewwwww..."

"And you know I didn't mind. I called you the next day, right? And we did a lot more kissing at your place?"

"Yeah, after I stopped crying 'cause I thought I ruined our friendship," Garrett grumbles, burying his face in Andrew's shoulder.

"What was that, hon?" Andrew goads, pulling lightly at Garrett's shock of blond hair. "I can't hear you."

"I _said_ ," Garrett growls out - and he suddenly seizes Andrew's hips and pulls him across the bed, tickling him 'till he's gasping and shrieking and giggling beneath him - " _y_ _es_ , Andrew Siwicki, and I know that you heard me - _hey!_ You can't _bite_ me, that's fighting dirty - !"

"Get off!" Andrew wheezes, laughing, hoping Garrett hasn't yet picked up on the fact that he actually loves being tickled by him.

"Only if you kiss me," Garrett chuckles; and that has Andrew eager to please, leaning up to rest his fists against Garrett's chest, the sheets mussed and crinkled about their waists, and bring their lips so perfectly together.

It is gentle and soft and yearning, and if Andrew wasn't so tired, still recovering from being sick, he would let it unfold into something more - but eventually, he has to pull away, bringing his forehead to rest against Garrett's and simply saying, "I love you."

"I love you, Andrew."

"I wouldn't have let you kiss me if I hadn't been so ridiculously in love with you, even back then."

Garrett presses his lips to Andrew's hair, and they fall back against the pillows. As Andrew's falling asleep in his boyfriend's arms, he thinks he can hear him say, "I know."


	3. Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _iii._
>> 
>> _My heart has been broken,_   
>  _so many times;_
>> 
>> _a fissure so poignant it could cut glass --_   
>  _so deep,_   
>  _I cannot bear to write about him:_
>> 
>> _to put pen to paper_   
>  _and try to capture what he took from me._

Andrew knows something is wrong, because Garrett won't get out of bed.

This morning, he'd rolled over and kissed Andrew's cheek - and blearily, mistakenly, Andrew had thought, _Today is going to be wonderful._ Maybe they would go for a little walk in the neighborhood, or go hiking in the forest - or hunker down in the backyard and play Bob Ross on Andrew's laptop, and laugh at each other's sorry attempts at painting the happy little trees behind the cottage.

But then Garrett pulled away, groped around the room for his phone (his boyfriend's _really_ blind without his glasses, okay?), found it on the nightstand -

And then immediately crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over his head with a faint little noise that cleaved Andrew's heart in two.

It's been twelve hours, and Andrew has gone almost the entire day without Garrett. He's managed to get a lot done for Shane, but it's all meaningless, useless drivel - his heart isn't in it at all.

He goes to the bedroom with a bowl of soup that Marianne - lovely Marianne, incredible Marianne, Garrett's eyes and Garrett's laugh and Garrett's pretty blond hair, already a sister to Andrew - pressed into his hands. "I don't care if you have to feed him yourself," she winks at him; "just make sure he eats something." Then she cackles at his blush, and she is so reminiscent of her brother that Andrew's chest _aches_.

Garrett is still wrapped in a blankety cocoon when Andrew arrives, setting the tray down next to where his phone is still sitting on the bedside table.

"Baby," he says, poking a little at Garrett's padded shoulder, beneath the comforter. "I know you're in there."

"Mmmfhfhg," Garrett says.

"Can't hide from me," Andrew giggles despite himself; then sobers up, clears his throat, and says, "I brought you some soup, Garr. You can't go all day without eating."

Garrett shuffles, the sound of cotton moving against polyester making Andrew's palms tingle. He pokes his head out at him, and Andrew melts a little at how scruffy his hair is, how even Marianne's deft fingers, mother's touch, couldn't tame it. He runs his hands through Garrett's mane, coaxing him out bit by bit, until he's sitting up against the headboard with his eyes squeezed shut.

"Can you tell me what happened, baby?" Andrew hums. "You haven't had an episode like this since... well. It's unlike you, is all."

Garrett sighs, and Andrew sees how pronounced the bags under his eyes are; breaks a little at the sight. His voice is rough and scratchy from disuse, but finally, eventually, he says, "Clayton texted me last night."

"Clayton," Andrew says blankly, running his tongue over the unfamiliar word. It tastes bitter on his tongue.

Garrett nods, as if no further explanation is needed.

"Am I supposed to know who that is," Andrew says. He feels kind of stupid.

Garrett stares, his sadness briefly dispelled by surprise, and then - _"Oh,"_ he says, eyes wide. "Oh. My ex-boyfriend. I guess I never told you his name."

 _"Oh,"_ Andrew says, too, and feels even dumber for not picking up on context clues.

"Don't look all disappointed in yourself, Andrew. It's not your fault for not knowing."

"Well, I should've -"

"It's alright," Garrett tells him, taking Andrew's hands in his own and pressing kisses to his wrists. "It's okay. We broke up long before I ever even met you. And I - I don't like talking about him, so it's okay. It's not your fault."

Andrew nods. "I'm sorry he texted you, sweetheart. He was your... uh, your first boyfriend, then?"

"First that ever really meant anything," Garrett replies.

"Was there... can I ask - ?"

"He wanted to know if I'm doing okay," Garrett says, "what with the pandemic and all. He just. Uh. Managed to make me really not okay by texting me."

Tears start to prickle at Andrew's eyes as he realizes just how upset Garrett is, how wobbly his voice sounds as he tries not to cry. "Oh, Garrett, I'm so sorry," he says, and Garrett leans into his arms, sniffling a little and clinging to Andrew like he's the only thing that matters.

"'S'okay," he mumbles into Andrew's sweatshirt. "Just haven't talked to him in a really long time. Should've changed my number, maybe -"

Now it's Andrew's turn to whisper, "It's not your fault, baby. It's not your fault. I love you - I love you so much, you know, I just can't stop loving you" - and if they spend the rest of the night in bed together, and Andrew's shirt is somewhat tearstained, and Garrett doesn't really say anything else until tomorrow -

Well. Andrew doesn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went on a deep dive into Garrett's Facebook page for this one. He's such a little weirdo, I love him.


	4. Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _iv._
>> 
>> _Someday, I will buy you a grand piano,_
>> 
>> _and you will dance around it,_   
>  _laughing,_   
>  _overjoyed;_
>> 
>> _and maybe then you will love me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, because I unfortunately have finals to cram for :(

"Just open it, Garr. It's been three days."

Garrett's hands hesitate, hover over the box. "You sure, Andrew?"

"Yeah, hon."

His boyfriend goes to town with a box-cutter Marianne lent him, ripping the cardboard open, pulling the packing peanuts and bubblewrap out from within and -

He stops and blinks. Andrew bites his lip, waiting, the suspense almost palpable.

"Andrew, what - you got me a _keyboard_?" Garrett nearly yells.

"Well," Andrew says. "Well, yeah."

"I - I, Andrew, I..." Garrett splutters. "You... you -"

"I know how much you missed the old one," Andrew smiles. "And I thought, maybe we could work on another song or something. While we're here. And Marianne doesn't have a piano, and -"

"You bought me a _$2,000_ keyboard?!" Garrett shrieks, snatching the receipt up from the bottom of the box and gaping at the price. _"Andrew!"_

"It - look, it was an accident, okay, I -"

"You bought me a $2,000 keyboard _on accident_?!?!"

"Well, yeah!" Andrew laughs, as Garrett shoves the box over to the side and tackles Andrew, knocking them both back onto the carpet they'd been sprawled across. "Woah, Garr - I - look, I didn't realize it was $2,000 when I bought it, the reviews were just really good -"

"How could you not look at the price?" Garrett exclaims, even as he's covering Andrew's face with kisses. "How could you do this to me?"

"Baby," Andrew giggles, "just - think of it as an early birthday present, okay? We'll take it back home once quarantine's over, and maybe get rid of your old one, sell it online or something."

"I love you," Garrett hums into Andrew's neck. "I love you, I don't know why you got me this, but I love you. You're so sweet."

"It makes funny sounds, too, apparently," Andrew tells him, his hands coming up to wrap loosely around Garrett's waist.

"The kids will _love_ it, Andrew. I love you so much. I can't believe you bought this on _accident_."

"Only the best for you, Garr."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering about today's part of the poem - can you tell I used to be in love with a pianist?
> 
> More Andrew + piano to come in a different fic. Been brewing since April 16th ;)


	5. Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _v._
>> 
>> _I miss you._
>> 
>> _I miss who you were,_
>> 
>> _back when I didn't know you,_   
>  _but could read you better than I could read myself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only chapter in this little series that doesn't take place during quarantine (just imagine Andrew's reminiscing!). Circa 2016.

"Why are you so _nervous_ , Andrew?"

They're walking through the streets of downtown, the warm L.A. sun pounding down on their backs and bare shoulders. Ricky's already a little tipsy, but Andrew is sober. And anxious.

He doesn't know why. He really doesn't. Ricky invited him out to this get-together and said he'd introduce him to one of his good friends, and for some reason, that'd set Andrew on edge. The way Ricky said it - with a smirk and a wink, like this was someone Andrew would be _drooling_ over when they finally met - made him feel self-conscious, like he had something to prove.

Ricky's tongue is even sharper than usual when he's drunk. So now he's scrutinizing Andrew, picking up on his every move as they amble down the sidewalk, the sun setting along their skin.

"...serious, you seem really worked up over this," Ricky is saying, and Andrew comes spinning back to earth. He clenches (unclenches, clenches, unravels) his fists at his sides.

"I'm not," he lies - _lies, lies, lies. Ricky's always been able to see through you, you hack - always seen you for the stupid, naïve, gullible little freak that you are, so fucking anxious all the time, sweating through your sheets, you're so -_

"You don't have anything to be nervous about," Ricky reassures him, suddenly calm, and the storm in Andrew's head passes. "Garrett's gonna love you, I promise."

Andrew blinks and says, "Garrett?"

"Yeah, didn't I - oops" - Ricky stumbles momentarily, steadies himself by grabbing Andrew's arm - "didn't I tell you his name?"

"He's," Andrew says, completely taken aback. "You didn't - you - I thought -"

"What?"

"I th-thought you were introducing me to - to a _girl_ ," Andrew splutters.

Ricky looks at him with a strange expression. "What gave you that idea?"

"I just - the way you told me made it seem -"

Andrew never finishes whatever he was about to say.

Because a laugh - a beautiful, brilliant laugh - peals across the square, ringing from the bar on the street corner diagonal to them.

And Andrew's heart stops.

Ricky tugs at the hem of Andrew's tank top - _a_ _fucking_ tank top _, really, Andrew? Way to dress to impress_ \- and pulls him, improbably, impossibly, towards the sound and across the street.

There's a slightly drunk group of happy-looking people standing outside the bar, and Andrew's gaze immediately lands on the tallest of them. He's talking animatedly to a much shorter woman with pinkish-purple hair about... well, the contents of their conversation are completely lost on Andrew, quite frankly, but - the way his hands move, gesticulating and punctuating the ends of his rambling sentences, like there's a million thoughts spinning around his head all at once, and he's racing to get everything out -

Then the woman says something, and the giant-of-a-man laughs, and Andrew feels like he's been sucker-punched.

"Andrew," Ricky says, poking at his freckled arm. "That's Garrett."

The man who's so effortlessly captured Andrew's attention turns at the sound of Ricky's voice, a beaming, kilowatt smile spread across his face. He sees Andrew, looks him in the eye - and time stills.

A fire ignites in Andrew's chest.

"Hi, Garrett Watts," the man introduces himself, offering Andrew his hand; "you've probably heard of me. I'm practically a Vine _sensation_."

The obvious sarcasm, the self-detriment dripping from his tone - the way he so easily makes fun of himself, his livelihood - draws a laugh, a terrible snigger, out of Andrew, and he clamps his hand over his mouth for a second. "God, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to -"

"No, I -" Garrett starts giggling himself. Something in his eyes is soft and kind and warm, and Andrew wants to drown himself in them. "I _love_ it, don't apologize! You've got a damn good laugh!"

Andrew's cheeks flush. "Thank you," he says. "That's... that's really nice of you to say. Most people don't like my laugh."

"Can't imagine why," Garrett says, looking genuinely skeptical. Then, lightning fast, a sudden change in subject: "Ricky's told me all about you. You're Andrew, right?"

"Yeah," Andrew says, and - the words are out before he can stop himself - "and you're... _golden_."

Garrett's mouth falls open. Andrew wants very much to die; wishes he had the excuse of being drunk off his ass right about now. But he's sober. Perfectly sober. And full of harsh regret.

"I'm _so sorry_ ," he says, after a few terrible moments of silence, "I didn't mean to say that. I just - I -"

"That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me," Garrett breathes. He's blushing, and Andrew thinks his own face reddens even more at the sight.

"I, uh... you just. The sun looks really good. On you. Right now," he says, very lamely. "Looks like you're, uh. Looks like you're... golden. That's all."

"Andrew," Garrett says, and he takes Andrew's hand between his own, holding it to his chest like a damsel in distress, straight out of the old black-and-white's. Somehow, Andrew doesn't mind at all. "I think you and I are gonna get along really well."


	6. Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _vi._
>> 
>> _I am still in love with you,_   
>  _still,_
>> 
>> _but I cannot escape._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the updated tags. Some slight NSFW in this chapter.
> 
> Another short one, because I'm so, so tired, it's four A.M., and finals are so close to being done (but still not quite finished).

He rolls over in bed, sees a voluptuous figure beside him, and feels his heart sink.

"Garrett," he says. His voice sounds like he's talking underwater. "Where's Garrett?"

She turns over and looks him in the eye.

"Garrett," he says again.

Gabbie does not speak. She simply looks at him, her naked body, her breasts, in full view. Andrew wishes she would cover up.

"Do I love you?" he asks her. "Is this what love feels like?"

He remembers the night he'd lost control; saying, starting, "Garr-" as he thrusted into her, cutting himself off before he could finish the name. She had rolled off immediately, crossing her arms over her chest and fixing her gaze on the ceiling, blinking away tears - and Andrew's chest had filled with shame, his cheeks red with it. He went to the bathroom to silently finish himself off, and then got back into bed beside her, neither of them saying a word.

Now Gabbie stares, and stares and stares and stares, and Andrew wants to scream.

"Where is he?" he asks. Something horrible, terrible, aching and clawing at his chest, dawns on him. "What did you do to him?"

Slowly, her face breaks into a smile - a toothy, awful smile, and Andrew's heart thuds, and won't stop, and he thinks he's going to die -

"Andrew, baby, it's okay," someone says, and then he's waking up, and Garrett's hands are there, smoothing down the stubble on his cheeks and running up his arms.

"God, Garrett," he says blearily, slurring his syllables slightly. "What time's'it?"

"It's morning, honey."

"No - what time -"

"Five A.M., sweetheart," Garrett says.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry," Andrew squeaks out. His face is wet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Not your fault," Garrett says, and finally, Andrew's vision focuses, the film of tears over his eyes diffusing as he lets them fall. Garrett swims into view, hair mussed and chest bare. Andrew thinks, dimly, that he must've taken his sleep shirt off, and that must be his fault, he was sweating feverishly and he probably made Garrett hot, too -

"Hey," Garrett says firmly. "You're overthinking."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Garr."

"'S'okay," his boyfriend tells him, and Andrew can hear the weariness in his voice. Guilt curls in his stomach. "Did you dream again?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry," he whispers.

"Don't apologize. Don't have to apologize."

"Sorry," he says, in the softest of tones. He feels very small. "Can we go back to sleep? I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go get you a nice, cold washcloth, okay? Make you feel all better."

"Garrett, please - you'll wake up Marianne and the kids, just - come back to bed, please -"

Garrett leans forward to kiss Andrew's forehead, and he is suddenly overcome by a staggering amount of affection. "It's already morning, honey," he says, and oh, how Andrew is comforted by the sound of his voice. "Might as well get up anyway. I love you; don't apologize."

Then he gets out of bed, the springs beneath the mattress creaking and whining their dismay, and Andrew wants to sob at how much he loves him.

He lies under the covers, the cool blue light from the not-quite-dawn submerging their little bedroom in calm, and waits for Garrett to return.


	7. AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _vii._
>> 
>> _I could've sworn I passed you in the crowd,_
>> 
>> _but when I made to call out to you,_   
>  _you had already flickered out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the additional tags mentioning angst and hallucinations.

He's beginning to think he made a mistake by taking Shane up on his offer.

"Look," he snaps, all but slamming the refrigerator door shut. "I'm going _crazy_ in this house. I'm sorry, but I'm sick to death of all of you."

Shane looks at him with wide, worried eyes. Andrew's afraid he's going to stage a Tana-esque intervention (if you could even describe it as such), what with the way he's staring - so he forges on and says: "I miss Garrett. So much. I can't stand it here any longer. I'm going out for the first time in a month, and I'm gonna call him on my way to the store. And then I'm gonna go in and get whatever shit you want. Okay?"

Shane doesn't say anything. Ryland is on the couch in the other room, petting the dogs and pretending not to eavesdrop. Morgan is finally gone, after Andrew's insistence that she leave and return to her own apartment. _Should've never let her come over in the first place._

Then, Shane says quietly, "Have you talked to him lately?"

"Yes," Andrew replies - immediately, effortlessly. A dull silence falls over the kitchen again, making Andrew shiver, even in his hoodie (the one Garrett made him).

They both know he's lying.

They both know Garrett hasn't been active online in weeks.

The lie spreads and spreads between them; permeating the air, oozing into the corners of the room - and Andrew feels like he can't breathe, he's hyperventilating - he needs Garrett here -

"Andrew," Shane says, genuine concern in his eyes. He raises his hands, as if to place them on Andrew's shoulders, comfort him -

"I'm fine," he hisses, jerking away. He will _not_ let Shane touch him. "I'm going. Text me if you need anything."

"Okay. I'm sorry, Andrew."

"Yeah, sure," he says on his way out. "Why don't you invite Trisha over while I'm gone? Have a nice fucking corona party when I get back?"

Finally, Shane recoils, shocked at the affront - and Ryland peeks in from the other room as Andrew storms past, opening his mouth to say something - but then Andrew's entering the garage, stomping out to the end of the driveway, and getting into his car.

He buckles himself in and runs his fingers obsessively through his hair, now wet from the rain.

"Shit," he says. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_. Fuck. Fucking _shit_. God."

He punches the steering wheel. Twice. It doesn't make him feel any better.

He knows why he's so angry. It's because he isn't with Garrett, and he was a fucking idiot who said no when Garrett offered to take him away to Washington, he'd been too fucking _scared_ \- _what will his sister think?_ he'd thought. _W_ _hat if she and her husband think me and Garrett -_

He regrets saying yes to Shane. He hates, he fucking _hates_ the guest bedroom, their stupid fucking house that he knows too fucking well, because he's spent so much time here over the past year and a half. He fucking hates it. He wants to be with Garrett. He said yes to a bunch of irresponsible influencers, who refuse to actually do what the CDC tells them, and go visit their friend on her birthday and don't even fucking social distance - they think the entire world will believe their fucking pictures - they bring her fucking _merch_ as a gift, not even -

He shudders, and turns the key in the ignition, and pulls out of the driveway.

Garrett doesn't pick up when he calls. He leaves his tenth message this week, and tells Garrett how much he loves him, because he should've said it before, and then hangs up.

He stands in the grocery store with his mask on, reaching carefully with his gloves for a box of farfalle to put in the cart he wiped down - and -

"You're gonna make us dinner, huh?" he hears Garrett say next to him. "Didn't know you were such a romantic, Siwicki."

Andrew grins and says, "Yes, you did, honey, I always -"

Then he stops and looks around wildly; sees nothing.

"Fuck," he grits out, thankful that no one can hear the words muffled beneath his mask. "Shit. I'm fucking hallucinating again, aren't I?"

"You need to get more sleep, Andrew," Garrett says behind him, and he whips around to see him standing on the other side of the aisle, his arms crossed - a little pout pursing at his lips - "You have to stop staying up all night when we're apart."

"Garrett," he chokes out. "Answer my fucking calls."

Garrett smiles sadly, shakes his head. "Can't."

_"Why not?"_

"You know why."

"I fucking - you can't just - I miss you _so much, Garrett, it's not fair_ -"

"You'll be okay, love," Garrett says; stepping forward, kissing Andrew's gross, sweaty forehead. "You'll be alright."

_"No -"_

And he turns and walks away - leaving Andrew empty, broken - his worst fears hitting him in the face with the force of a fucking freight train and ridding him completely of what little will to live he has left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatever you're thinking about what happened to Garrett, you're right.

**Author's Note:**

> Endless thanks and kudos to [Esme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldsapphic) for organizing this challenge. It's been an absolute delight, and I will truly miss it :,)
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as @[cherryblossomwatts](https://cherryblossomwatts.tumblr.com)! Feel free to follow me and/or [shoot me a ficlet request](https://cherryblossomwatts.tumblr.com/ask).
> 
> Also, if you appreciate my work, please leave me a comment telling me what you liked about it! Inspiration from my lovely readers is what keeps me writing ❤️


End file.
